


Running From Falling Flowers

by baexil



Category: GOT7
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-08 19:20:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10394292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baexil/pseuds/baexil
Summary: In a rush, he says, "Run away with me."Those same words echo in his memories, Mark's dreams of running away from their expectations, of the weight of watching eyes, taking to the road for a trip that would color their youth whispered into his neck in the dark of night followed by the tentative first brush of lips against his own, his heart pounding so fast he was worried it would beat out of his chest. Those childish words they promised each other so long ago.“Yes,” he answers without an ounce of hesitation.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [kpopolymfics2017](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/kpopolymfics2017) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  **Dean – "bonnie & clyde"**  
> [lyrics](https://colorcodedlyrics.com/2016/03/dean-bonnie-clyde) | [video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=425l9_6ARjE) | [supplementary](https://www.flickr.com/photos/chloecoislier/24477358390/in/photostream/) [prompts](http://theskepticisafool.tumblr.com/post/23950688941)

**2:23am**

Jinyoung doesn’t see the text at first, the deafening thrum of the clubs bass and the shouted conversations as people try to talk unsuccessful over the music makes it hard to hear anything let along the soft jingle of his text tone. 

The director of his latest movie is seated to his left and has been working his way through several bottles by himself, already an alarming side of red, flushing his face and neck in an unattractive hue. He tries not to turn his nose up at his increasingly sloppy behavior, smoothing a practiced smile over his features instead, but his seniors have been passing him drinks all night and despite being accustomed to the amount of drinking that goes on in the acting field, Jinyoung is starting to feel warm and woozy himself. 

After the director pours Jinyoung a drink that finishes their bottle of soju, his smile is starting to twitch at the sides, cracking under the pressure of his work persona and his overwhelming need to catch some fresh air. It feels claustrophobic, their entire cast smushed into one room. He can practically see the steam rise in the air at their combined body heat. 

Pleading a headache, Jinyoung is able to dip out of their reserved room and into the restroom, closing the door behind him with a grateful sigh. 

It’s hard to remember the last time Jinyoung actually enjoyed a cast party and this one certainly did not pass as enjoyable. In his early twenties, it was his favorite part of making a TV show or movie behind acting. There was thrill in the feeling of completion, that he had done something successfully and was being rewarded for that behavior. Liquor, food, and compliments always in excess. Beyond that, he loved being able to socialize with new people. He used to work the room, smiling and assessing who he should talk to and which connections he should work with. It was almost like a challenge back then, expanding his professional circle to what would be most advantageous for him and his career. 

But now, it feels exhausting. It's as if he carries weight around his neck at every event nowadays. Those social events that require all of this smiling, remembering names and scraping small facts from his member for small talk, something he used to take like a fish to water now felt more like a buffalo trying to wade water. It is hard to keep his energy up and keep his smile bright, to pretend to care about every little detail of everyone's life. In many ways, this is just as hard as when he was an idol. The desire to run away from everything where he didn't have to fake another polite conversation was certainly the same. 

He knows, however, that he worked hard for this position. He had to in order to make the successful transition from idol actor to former idol who turned away from music to top 0 highest paid actors in South Korea, dominating the "Korean wave." Those hardships and the tremendous amount of effort wasn't for naught, he is wildly popular as an actor now. And beyond materialistic fame, he genuinely loves acting. 

When he was younger, acting served as an outlet. A way to pour his emotions into something more than the happy-go-lucky personality of an idol. He could find aspects of his characters in himself and poke and prod and vent those emotions into his character until it was a cathartic method of blowing off steam. From there, his passion and love had a base to grow from something that has not worn away with age. And frankly, he isn't sure what he would do if he didn't have the creative and emotional outlet of acting in his life. 

But still, it gets harder and harder as time goes on. Loving something doesn't mean it doesn't hurt sometimes 

He can practically hear a smart ass comment in his head in BamBam’s perfect smug tone about old age catching up to him but it’s easy to dismiss. It doesn’t feel like his age is the problem. 

After a sigh, Jinyoung digs into the pocket of his far too tight jeans and pulls out his cellphone. He immediately deletes notifications from his mail and social media accounts, skimming some news headlines as he quickly swipes those away too. There are a couple of texts that need reply to. One from Jackson makes him smile. Just a text with a kissy emoji and a selfie of him laying on a beach with a coconut in his hand. There is even an umbrella stuck in the coconut for decoration. Smiling, Jinyoung sends back a quick 'jealous.' 

And then he sees it. A text from Mark. 

His heart immediately thuds faster in response to seeing Mark’s name peer up at him from his phone. It should be difficult to raise his heart rate after the amount of alcohol he has had this night, but Mark always has been able to make him think and feels in ways that don’t make sense. 

_Jinyoung_ simply reads the text. Just his names in black letters, staring up at him from his phone's screen. 

He pockets his phone again with a shaking inhale of breath. Reaching for the sink’s faucets, Jinyoung pointedly ignores the slight tremble in his hands as he dabs some cold water on his neck and behind his ears. He curses, wishing he had the courage to just splash on his face and wipe the thick makeup from his face, but he doesn’t. 

What could Mark want? 

That’s a stupid question. Jinyoung knows exactly where this is leading. This has been happening for the past couple of years now. Jinyoung would love to pretend that he didn't know this practiced routine but the heart pounding in his chest and his suddenly sweating hands tells a different story. 

Mark somehow know when to text, sending one exactly on the last day of whatever shooting he was at, knowing he would have at least one day of rest before his schedule picked back up again. Jinyoung would predictably would be drunk and Mark would invite him over for a drink. And Jinyoung would accept, swallowing back whatever whiskey Mark would favor that month. 

Somewhere in between their third whisky and the peek of dawn, they would find themselves tangled impossibly together. Reaching for each other with a need to be as close as physically possible while Mark would claim every inch of his skin with his blazing hot mouth and familiar long fingers. 

Mark has always been the habit that Jinyoung doesn’t know how to break. As if he could say he has even tried to stay away. 

But it’s been a while since Jinyoung has seen Mark and it hurts to admit how much he misses him, misses his comfort and his oh-so-gentle hands. His pride hasn't let him reach out first, he never has, settling instead for news about him from second hand accounts the seldom times he has enough time to meet with any of his former members, catching little bits in their stories and conversations. 

Mark stopped reaching out about a year ago and Jinyoung has been too prideful to text him first. Which is stupid. Especially since Mark stopped texting after his relationship with Kim Yoojung was “leaked” to the press. It wasn’t real of course, a promotion set up by their respective companies to promote their movie. 

But Mark didn’t necessarily know that. 

Jerking his head at that thought, he grimaces at his own expression. Sure, him and Mark were intimate but there was nothing between them that was more than friends. Close friends, of course, ones who have supported each other in their highest and lowest moments and provided emotion and physical support whenever they needed it. 

But who was Mark to care if he was dating or not? It shouldn't affect their friendship at all. 

Bracing his hands on either side of the sink, Jinyoung lets the cool water drip down his neck to provide some much needed cooling down trying hard to not taste the bitterness of his own lies in his mouth. He takes a few breaths to help him battle the storm of emotions in his chest. His overwhelming in ignorable desire to see Mark that practically burns a hole in his chest versus his stubborn pride that wants to punish Mark for ignoring him for so long. 

A dark whisper echoes in his head, his chest, in that cold area where his heart is supposed to be, a whisper that he forcibly pushes down away from the forefront of his thoughts despite the knowledge that it won't go away, the burning of an itch that irritates the longer he ignores it. A whisper of his fear in facing Mark. In facing the emotions that Mark brings out in him. 

Clenching his jaw, Jinyoung leaves his phone in his pocket and turn to rejoin the party, carefully not looking at his reflection in the mirror as he does so. 

**3:52am**

“Mark,” he says with more want than he should hear in his own voice. The room is spinning and he is past the point of tipsy, succumbing to very-human desire to drown his woes and providing him with a short-term solution to the problem he won't admit he has, a temporary guilt-free admission into what he wants most. 

The air is cool against his flushed cheeks and he quickly looks behind him in a sudden wave of paranoia. The alley is empty with no one in sight. Taking advantage, he uses the brick wall as support and he cradles the phone to his ear, stifling his heavy breathing to listen carefully. 

“You’re drunk,” Mark says in lieu of a greeting. Unashamed, Jinyoung closes his eyes at Mark’s deep timbre. He breathes and pushes down how much he misses his friend. 

“I can come get you.” 

“Please-“ Jinyoung says rushedly, his want obvious even to his own ears. There is a pause, a beat of silence, a familiar one that they share, one filled with all of things they can’t say. 

I miss you. Take care of me. I just want to be near you. 

It’s so much easier to break down his fear and his pride when he is drunk and he is thankful this cast party at least had one favorable outcome. 

“I’m leaving the house now.” Jinyoung releases a breath he didn't even know he had been holding. 

**3:34am**

Time blurs as he waits there, wrapping his stupidly expensive leather jacket closer to his body not understanding why it was so expensive if it couldn't keep him warm even in the middle of spring, and then there Mark is, looking impossibly soft in his overly big hoodie and no-make up, bare face. His heart skips a bit at the small smile on his face. Swallowing, he pretends to be unaffected as they both skip greetings to gaze at each other. It's been a while, but Mark looks as good as he always has. Perhaps there is more of a softness at the corner of his eyes, a line or two that are more pronounced around his smile. 

"Jinyoung," he calls and Jinyoung's mouth is suddenly dry. Mark grabs his arm, pausing for just a heartbeat before easily supporting Jinyoung who suddenly feels very clumsy. He has had plenty of time of feel sober, but somehow being around Mark has made him feel as if he has two left feet. 

But Mark- now that Jinyoung is pressed into his warm side, providing comfort against the chill in the air, Mark smells like freshly done laundry, of that cinnamon shampoo he recognizes from their days living together, and so much like home. Familiar and warm, Jinyoung takes in a deep breath, letting Mark overwhelm his senses. Happy, his heartbeat slows as he nuzzles into the soft fabric of his hoodie, hiding a smile into his shoulder. 

He very carefully doesn’t let himself think about how Mark’s breathing stills for just a moment before he tangling one of their hands together. 

That warm feeling Jinyoung was chasing, freezes quickly at their joined hands. Suddenly, he feels stiff and unsure as let's Mark hold his hand, he breathes carefully to not let Mark catch on to his tenseness and lifts his head from his shoulder to take a searching look around the area. Looking for anyone that could see them. The street is thankfully empty, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t watchful eyes. With a shake of his head, he tucks his face into the crook of Mark’s neck so he doesn’t have to think about those eyes that always seem to watch him. Judge him. Staring at him from the corner of his eyes and in the shadows with their glinting camera lenses and pointed phone cameras. 

Jinyoung has to shakes himself to dispell the floating figures in the corners of his eyes and the feeling that someone is watching despite knowing no one is there. 

They walk to Mark's car and Jinyoung trips just as they get there, falling hands first onto the hood. He gasps, quickly stepping back to look for any dents in Mark’s ridiculously expensive car. 

“Sorry,” he says, sagging back onto the hood after giving up keeping himself standing on his own. 

Mark’s eyes are hidden in the dark of night and it leaves Jinyoung slightly breathless as he leans forward, placing his hands on either side of him. The position causes him to lean back to keep a respectable distance between them, but Mark follows him until his back is pressed up against the hood. 

His heart is pounding in his ears and the hood of the car is slightly warm where the engine had just been running, but it nowhere matches the look in Mark's eyes. He shivers at the look, wanting to blame it on the different between the cool air and the warmth of the hood, but unable to lie to himself when he is so memorized by the way Mark is looking at him. 

The moment seems to stretch on forever and Jinyoung finds himself holding his breath. It’s tense as they both wait for the other to move, wait for whoever will cave first and succumb to the heated atmosphere between them. 

Mark gives in first, as he always does, leaning in to press the ghost of a kiss against his lips. Still holding his breath, Jinyoung quivers slightly at the gentleness of Mark's lips. When another soft kiss is pressed to the hollow of his throat, Jinyoung shakily releases his breath, gasping in cold air as Mark's lips trail a hot blaze down his throat and over his collarbone. Jinyoung feels super aware of every point their bodies are in contact with one another and how so very aware of much he still craves to be closer. To melt under Mark until he can’t feel anything other than the colors, senses, and emotions that only Mark can inspire in him. 

Mark pulls back, looking down at Jinyoung who is splayed against the hood of his car with dark eyes. He wonders what kind of image he is right now, flushed, his hair falling softly from his face and open to Mark's mercy. Whatever Mark sees, his eyes sparkle in the moonlight before he leans back down to place a searing kiss against his lips. Arching against the hood, Jinyoung clutches at Mark's hoodie and Mark easily steps in between his legs, chasing their kiss. 

He could easily get lost like this, their lips moving easily against each other, and he pours every bit of longing into their kiss. He feels warm and fuzzy and safe in Mark’s arms. 

Then something crashes nearby and Jinyoung is harshly brought into the cold, hard present. 

Mind suddenly reeling with where they are and what they are doing, Jinyoung shoves Mark away from him. He doesn’t look at Mark’s wide, surprised eyes or his red, kiss-swollen lips and has to physically turn away instead and close his eyes against the sight, gaping for breath as he does so. 

They are in _public._ What was he thinking to let himself be so careless? What if someone caught them? Jinyoung feels sober now, as if cold water was thrown harshly in his face as he comes to grip with the present. 

Mark carefully touches his shoulder and he doesn’t jolt away from his touch but he does obviously tense up. It’s enough for Mark to get the signal to let his hand drop. 

“I-“ Jinyoung starts, swallowing around his emotions and his suddenly watery eyes, “I can’t.” 

Another long moment stretches between them before he can see Mark nod at the corner of his vision. 

“I’ll just take you home,” he says softly. Jinyoung squeezes his eyes against the hurt he can hear there, but nods gratefully. 

They climb into the car and the next thirty minutes are some of the longest in his entire life. So many unsaid things lie between them that they are both at a loss to what to say. His chest squeezes painfully, his heart physically hurting as he tries to come up with something to say, if not an explanation of his denial, at least some stupid question or joke to ease the atmosphere. 

As they near his house, his gives up on finding anything to say. 

They pull into his driveway and Jinyoung’s shoulders slump as he opens the car door and climbs out. He blinks repeatedly when he sees Mark climb out too. Mark walks over to him, just outside of his personal space and looks at the ground. 

“I’m sorry,” Mark says and it feels like Jinyoung’s heart is getting torn out of his chest because it’s not his fault. It’s never been his fault. 

“No,” Jinyoung says, forcing the words from his mouth as they taste like ash, “I’m sorry.” 

Wincing at how stupid that sounds, Jinyoung turns on his heel. He pauses a moment, Mark’s gaze heavy on his back. There is some sort of finality here that he doesn’t want to feel or to own up to, a sharp pain in his chest urges him to not leave. He has to mentally brace himself to walk away from Mark and not see the ever-growing distance between them. 

Before he can take one step forward, Mark suddenly grabs his wrist. Startled, Jinyoung turns to face Mark who is on the verge of saying something. When their eyes meet, Mark quickly closes his mouth with a click. Jinyoung's heart races as Mark swallows, gathering himself. 

In a rush, he says, "Run away with me." 

Those same words echo in his memories, Mark's dreams of running away from their expectations, of the weight of watching eyes, taking to the road for a trip that would color their youth whispered into his neck in the dark of night followed by the tentative first brush of lips against his own, his heart pounding so fast he was worried it would beat out of his chest. Those childish words they promised each other so long ago. 

“Yes,” he answers without an ounce of hesitation. 

**4:02am**

Jinyoung shifts in the passenger seat of Mark’s car, watching the scenery rush by them. His clutches a water bottle that Mark picked up for him at a gas station on the way out of Seoul and keeps his shoulders turned towards the window. 

It’s a sorry excuse to not look over to speak to Mark, but Jinyoung will take what he can get at this point. 

This is a stupid idea, really. If he was to spend a minute thinking about all of the reasons he shouldn’t be in this car, engine roaring as they speed away from Seoul, he’s sure he could come up with enough to fill a journal or write a book. 

But he isn’t home. He is with Mark. 

He’s always been with Mark, really, has been since they were paired as trainees. A sad smile touches his lips of the thought of how taken he was with Mark even from the beginning. 

As trainees, they were originally part of different friend groups, but Jinyoung can remember watching the tall American from across the room, interested in how everything about him seemed so different. Then he became a team member, part of the same group that was chasing the same dream, they had gotten closer during that time. A confident, someone to steal into their bed in the dark of night to whisper their greatest fears to that melted into the first time they kissed. Jinyoung's chest squeezes painfully at the thought. 

As if sensing his thoughts, Mark sneaks a glance and smiles, catching his eyes for a second, before darting back to the road, smoothly switching lanes. 

Nervous, Jinyoung fiddles with the car’s interior controls. Soon, the car is gently heating up the interior and sleep pulls at him. The leftover alcohol in his veins paired with the years of training himself to catch what he little sleep he could in traveling from schedule to schedule, he finds his eyeslids getting heavier against his will. 

Knowing him better than he knows himself, Mark suddenly fiddles with the radio to play some soft music. Jinyoung struggles a bit with staying awake, shifting in his seat so he can subtly watch Mark’s profile. There is an urge that he should say something, they haven’t exchanged a single word since they left Mark’s house and he feels like he should take advantage of the situation, to voice all of the questions he has sitting heavily on his chest. 

Maybe even to say what they both knew, how stupid this sudden road trip was. 

His tiredness pulls at him, this time more than just a physical exhaustion. 

They’ve been at an impasse for so long now that this new direction is sudden. And new. And he isn’t sure if it’s for better or for worse. But he trusts Mark, implicitly, and if he gets the urge to drag him halfway across the world then he’ll follow. In a way he has always followed Mark’s lead.

And at that, Jinyoung is lulled into sleep. Ghosts of chasing Mark's back haunting his dreams. 

**5:45am**

Jinyoung jerks from sleep when Mark gently nudges him. Surprised, he tries to quickly blink the sleep from his eyes, but is obviously unsuccessful going by Mark’s warm chuckle. 

“C’mon,” he says, holding out his hands “Follow me.” And he does, feeling natural to take Mark's hands in his own. 

The salty sea air smacks his senses the moment he opens the car door. It’s refreshing, waking him up quickly as he sticks his nose in the air and just smells the familiarity the wind. He can hear the crash of waves nearby and Mark is tugging him closer. 

They trade looks and with a grin, Jinyoung runs towards the ocean and doesn't let go of Mark’s hand, jerking him into a run and dragging him towards the ocean. Laughing delightedly, they both scramble down wooden stairs and race across the deck, shucking their shoes to freely run with their bare feet against the sand and towards the ocean. 

The sky is a pink gray and it washes the whole beach in a soft pastel light that makes everything seem soft despite the wild crash of waves. Memorized, Jinyoung pulls them until the water chills their feet. His heart feels full and he turns to say something stupid and perhaps something unwisely romantic to Mark but finds his mischievous grin instead. 

“No, no, no,” Jinyoung says, knowing Mark enough to back quickly away from him, “Don’t you even think about it.” 

The warning falls on deaf ears as Mark uses their interlocked hands to pull at him and tries to throw him over his shoulder. Yelping at a pitch that couldn't be described as manly, Jinyoung yanks his wrist away and makes a mad dash for it. Mark chases him around the sand, slipping and diving for him, and they both laugh so hard they can’t breathe. 

They only stop when the sunrises over the ocean, fighting to peek out of the soft gray fog that clouds the dawn. Mark reaches over to grab his hand and they watch as the sky fades from gray to blue to pink to orange. 

He feels younger than he has in years and his chest feels light and he almost wishes he could dive headfirst into the water. Struck with the thought, he again turns to Mark and finds the words stilled before he can voice them. 

The sun is glinting in Mark’s eyes who is looking at him with an open earnestness, turning his eyes molten brown. He looks so much like his younger self in that expression that Jinyoung’s chest squeezes uncomfortably as his heart races faster. Mark tugs him closer 

In a sharp contradiction to their hurry to get to the water, their lips meet in a slow and familiar dance. Without any hurry, they kiss as the sun shines down on them with the waves crashing at their feet. 

Jinyoung closes his eyes against the kiss and lets himself be taken away. 

**7:19am**

They find a hotel in a tiny village far off the beaten path. If you can call it that, more like a home stay or a bed and breakfast than a proper hotel. Despite the odd hour, the old couple let them into their room after they buy a giant, homemade breakfast at the restaurant the owners have attached to the hotel. 

Jinyoung heads straight for the bathroom, playful shoving Mark out of the way, quickly jumping in the shower and leaves Mark to poke around and get acquainted with the small but clean and intimate room. The hot water runs out after about five minutes and Jinyoung frowns at the showerhead as if it could be blamed before finishing up quickly. Wrapping a scratchy towel around his waist, h e grabs his clothes from their pile on the floor and doesn’t think anything of stepping into the bedroom. 

Mark immediately turns at the door opening, his mouth is open to say something, but his eyes drop first to his bare chest. Jinyoung shifts but not uncomfortably, they had seen each other in all sorts of dress, but for some reason, Mark's gaze feels warm. Shivering, Mark distracts himself instead carefully hanging up his clothes so they won’t wrinkle. 

“You might want to wait a moment before you shower,” he says, purposefully light, “The hot water ran out faster than our old trainee showers used to.” 

Mark laughs at a tone that is a bit lower than his normal timbre, but his eyes don’t leave Jinyoung for even a moment as Jinyoung pulls a pair of his sweatpants from their hastily packed backpack. 

Holding them in his hands, he arches an eyebrow at Mark, giving him a meaningful look. 

“As if it’s something I haven’t seen before,” Mark says with a slight scoff. Jinyoung purses his lips unhappily and, familiar with his nonverbals, Mark turns and walks in to use the bathroom himself. 

Jinyoung finishes changing and quickly dragging the towel through his hair before climbing into the surprisingly comfy bed. He is crawling under the surprisingly soft duvet when he looks up and finds Mark leaning against the doorframe, watching him. 

“Why did you run away with me?” he asks, tone light despite the depth of his question. 

Mark has an odd look in his eyes, his words floating softly in the air between them. The early sun rays filter through sheer curtains enough to wash the room in the pale gray reflecting the dreary spring morning outside. A hesitant heather gray stretching the room in a long, washed out way. 

His heart skips a beat, stealing his breath from him without any consensus of his own. His first instinct is to roll his eyes and laugh off the moment, say something cheesy about fulfilling childhood dreams. But there is that funny look in Mark’s eyes, the rigidness of his shoulders, the firm press of his lips flash as clear signs to something more. 

Taking a shaking breath and forcibly ignoring the wild beating of his heart in his ribcage, Jinyoung sits up in the bed, pooling the covers in his lap. Mark's eyes don't leave his own, boring into his own as he searches for an answer. 

Mark repeats himself, “Why did you run away with me?” 

Jinyoung licks his suddenly dry lips, shoving down insecurities and doubts and using them to mask the truthfulness that begs him to be spoken out loud. Instead, he crams it aside, focusing on the exhilaration of being at Mark’s side, the impulsiveness he feels, and the eagerness to get his large, gentle hands back onto his chilling skin. 

“I want you,” he admits in a rush, satisfying the desperate pull of truth that claws at the inside of his chest with a half truth. 

Mark’s eyes darken and it should bother Jinyoung how well he has learned to play Mark so easily into his hands, he knows them both so well to say just enough to keep Mark interested and yet never really touching on what Mark really wants. He knows what to say and do to direct the conversation to safer ground, distract them both from those real, painful conversations that have been postponed for years. 

But it's hard to dwell on those complicated, self-hatred thoughts, when Mark is crawling over to him, pressing him back into the bed, and covering him with miles of warm skin and knowing, familiar hands. 

**11:27am**

When Jinyoung wakes again, he is warm bundled under the duvet, completely content to doze in and out as he pleases. He doesn’t get much time to laze around in bed and it would take a lot for him to leave as drowsy and warm from their earlier escapades. The sound of a rustling draws his eyes open. Poking his head out of the duvet, Jinyoung cranes his head to find Mark collecting various things that they’ve strewn across the room. His hair is mussed and there is a faint red mark on his right shoulder that Jinyoung vividly remembers giving him earlier than morning. The mark has a smile playing at his lips. 

Grinning, Jinyoung asks, “What are you doing?” 

Turning at the question, Mark smiles, a hint of mischievous trouble curled on his lips, “Packing,” he says simply. 

Jinyoung doesn’t let a pout touch his face, keeping his lips smiling, “Oh? Didn’t know you were ready to go back already." 

“Not back, no,” Mark says, carefully rolling Jinyoung’s flashy button down he wore to the cast party into a packable size. He frowns, unhappy at seemingly nothing, shakes it out before rolling it again, as he continues to say, “Somewhere else.” 

Blinking, it takes a while for Jinyoung to process what he has said. Narrowing his eyes, he asks, “Somewhere else?” 

“You’d think _I_ was the native speaker, Jinyoung,” Mark teases with a backwards glance and a grin. Jinyoung’s heart skips a beat. 

“Why?” He asks, tumbling from his lips in a rush. 

“I’m going to catch you.” Mark explains, straight to the point. 

Fight a blush, Jinyoung pulls the duvet back over his head, closing his eyes as he fights with himself to control him. To not let Mark’s words get to his head again as he quietly listens him pack for two. 

Mark prods him out of bed an hour after that, his hair wet from the shower. Jinyoung plays with his wet bangs for a moment before dragging himself from his warm cocoon and into clothes. 

With a last lingering kiss, tasting sharply of minty toothpaste, Mark slings their shared bag over his shoulder and opens their hotel door. 

Turning, Mark smiles and asks, “Coming?” 

As if Jinyoung had another choice. 

They return to the owner’s restaurant again before they leave. The old lady gives them a wink and far more food than the two of them can possibly eat, something about needing energy for the long road ahead. They don’t finish, but they give it a fair try. 

Over their meal, Mark makes eye contact with him several times, not saying anything, just smiling happily. Jinyoung has a matching one of his own. 

Full of fresh sashimi, rice, and soup, and with a polite goodbye to the owner, Mark and Jinyoung climb in their car. 

Mark plays an American song, a woman with a husky voice crooning over a soft beat as Mark guides their car back onto the highway. 

**5:41pm**

The highway pulls them into Busan and Jinyoung smiles at the sunshine and the sea and the possibilities there. 

Jinyoung, eager to keep breaking his diet while he can, immediately suggests to find somewhere to find pork soup. After a quick internet search, they settle on a restaurant on the outskirts of the city, but not far from the road. 

The restaurant is warm and they are greeted brightly when the step in. It’s noisy inside, every inch of space crammed with tables and chairs, a majority already filled. As they wait to be seated, Mark turns to him and raises his eyebrow, from underneath his low-brimmed baseball cap. He asks, “Think this is a good idea?” 

Jinyoung shifts, silently wondering the same, “There are a couple of tables outside. If we can snag one out there, it won’t be suspicious if we keep our hats on.” 

Nodding, Mark goes to talk to the waitress and Jinyoung scans the table, quickly claiming one as some customers are leaving. He slips on his sunglasses and pulls his cap down further over his eyes. Mark joins him shortly after and their food comes almost as quick after that. 

The sun is shining happily down them and there is a warm breeze that keeps things just cool enough to be enjoyable. Cheery, Jinyoung dives into their food and can’t help to moan at the taste. Glancing up, he catches Mark watching him with an amused expression. 

“This is amazing,” he says, gesturing at Mark’s own food, “Just try it and see if you can keep giving me that look.” 

Laughing, Mark obeys then immediately looks up with wide eyes after his first taste. 

“What did I say?” Jinyoung says proudly before digging into his own food. Mark rolls his eyes, easily goesback to his food. They slurp at their food, Mark subtly stretches his legs out until he is pressing warmly into Jinyoung’s own under their table. Jinyoung can feel heat in his cheeks and is glad he has the soup and warm weather to place blame. 

Their moment of peace lasts all of ten minutes before they get spotted. They don’t notice it at first, the small group of people who crowd on the other side of the street, not until someone shouts Mark’s name. Startled, Mark looks over and the group start to titter excitedly at his response. 

Cursing and ducking his head, he gives Jinyoung a guilty look who pulls his cap even lower over his eyes as he yanks his feet away from where they were tangled with Mark’s, heart pounding in his ears and his hands trembling. 

What were they thinking again? This type of skinship in public again? There was only so much they could do without the eyes of the public and their whispered rumors. Not looking up, stomach churning unpleasantly, he pushes his food away. 

“C’mon,” he says, heart beating in his ears, suddenly overly nervous, “Let’s get out of here.” 

“Okay,” Mark says, looking down at his half-eaten meal, “Let me go pay first and we can leave.” 

Jinyoung gathers their dishes together to leave at the designated dumping spot, he purposefully ignores his shaking hands. He keeps up his mental barrage of self-doubt. Why did he think this was a good idea again? This was so stupid, what if people _assumed_ things. 

_Then they would just be right, an ugly voice whispers in his ears._ It takes all of his self control to not throw up the food they just ate on their way back to the car, picking up his pace and swallowing the bile at the back of his throat instead. 

Quickly checking Naver when they are safely back in the car, he can already see several articles up about their dinner. 

_GOT7 Bromance Still Alive Despite Disbandment_

_Which celebrity duo have a warm and cozy date for two in Busan?_

_Busan Getaway, Markjin Lives!_

Jinyoung frowns. 

“What are you looking at?” Mark asks curiously. 

“Naver,” he answers and after a pause he says, “There are already articles.” 

“Of our dinner? Already?” Mark asks, shooting him a quick look, “Then why does it look like you’ve swallowed a fly?” 

Jinyoung scoffs, “I don’t understand why people need to write an article about two people having dinner. It’s not a huge deal.” 

There is a sudden tension in the car that wasn’t there thirty seconds ago. Jinyoung takes a beat to swallow around the lump of emotions in his throat before he determinedly continues on despite every word feeling thick and wrong as they fall from his mouth. 

“It’s just two friends having dinner,” he forces his eyes away from Mark and to the passenger side window so he can keep going without having to face the tension that lies in Mark’s shoulders, “Are celebrities not allowed to have friends now?” 

He laughs but it sounds cold and bitter even to his ears, “The news cycle must be really slow today.” 

Mark doesn’t reply and he keeps his eyes to the scenery whizzing by in a thankfully distracting blur of colors. The sea rolls unhappily, the sun hiding behind some gray clouds. Rain is surely on the way. 

**9:11pm**

Deciding it was playing with fate to go and try any touristy things after their dinner was spread all over the internet, they both head to the rich part of town and make a reservation at one of the nicer hotels providing them with the privacy they needed now. 

The front desk worker must also recognize them because they are quickly and discreetly taken to the back and brought to their room by the service elevator. Jinyoung puts on his best smile and thanks the employee as Mark wordlessly stalks into their room to drop their bag onto the sitting area's couch. 

Jinyoung barely has the time to close the door before Mark is crowding into his personal space. He presses close, pressing him back into the door behind him, and Jinyoung holds his breath at Mark's dark eyes. They both freeze, looking into each other's eyes as they search for that something they've both been hiding from each other. 

With a hesitation that makes Jinyoung heart ache, Mark slowly reaches for him, tracing his lower lips with a softness and care that has Jinyoung closing his eyes against the look in Mark's eyes. Sometimes it's easier to lie to himself when he just has to feel. 

"Jinyoung," Mark alls raggedly, voice cracking with emotion. Scrunching his face, Jinyoung drops his head and breathes shakily. Mark steps closer, but still slowly almost as if he is afraid to make any sudden movement or Jinyoung will scare, stepping close enough that Jinyoung can feel the heat of his skin and slips his arms around Jinyoung's waist. Unable to deny himself, Jinyoung wraps his arms just as slowly around Mark and hides his face in the side of his neck, burrowing there as he cowardly keeps his eyes closed. 

Mark smells so much of home that Jinyoung trembles. He overwhelms Jinyoung's every single one of his senses and always has. He has always been so attuned to Mark that it feels wrong to not be pressed as closes as they possibly can be. He wishes he could melt into Mark's skin. Being this close to Mark is so simple and yet also sent his thoughts into a haywire of a complicated spiral. Mark has always offered a warmth, a comfort, a sense of peace and feeling of home that he can't find anywhere else, no matter how much he has tried to find someone, something, else. And he has tried. But he always finds himself coming back. 

Mark pulls back enough for Jinyoung to look up. Taking advantage, Mark traces an eyebrow, his cheekbone, the cut of his jaw before tipping him into the softest, gentlest kiss Jinyoung has ever received. 

Shivering, Jinyoung instinctively rebels against all of the good and right ways it makes him feels. He can't do this, it hurts far too much, to have something that he can't have. And yet, like a masochist, he keeps crawling back for more. 

Pulling together ends of his anger, Jinyoung pushes away how good he feels and focuses on the fear and the self-hatred. He roughly grabs Mark's shirt, switching their positions and slamming Mark up against the door this time, trapping him there with hands on either side of his head. 

But Mark, beautiful soft Mark, just stands there, open and welcoming despite his roughness, accepting him in every way. Like he always has. Grabbing at his frustration like it's his last lifeline, Jinyoung grabs Mark's collar and yanks him into a biting kiss.

Mark gasps so beautifully into the rough kiss, pulling Jinyoung impossibly closer and sealing their mouth together, licking into his mouth as if he already knows every single one of jinyoung's doubts, his insecurities, has counted each and every one of them, and yet still wants Jinyoung regardless. Frozen, Jinyoung watches with wide eyes as Mark arches his neck back and deepens their kiss, cupping the back of his neck and tangling his fingers into the short hairs there. He takes all of Jinyoung's fear and anger and frustration until he feels nothing but the soft warmth of their kiss. 

A whimper escapes him before he can muffle it into another kiss. Only then does Mark lean back, his eyes blazing and Jinyoung cannot look away from him, it would physically pain him to look away or look at anything but the way Mark's eyes glow at him, fiery, as if he wants to consume Jinyoung from the inside out.

"I need you," he says breathily and Jinyoung would be a fool not to dive back in for a soul-crushing kiss. 

Mark guides him backwards and towards the bed, kissing desperately, parting only to fling their clothing without a care of where they land. They fall back onto the bed and Jinyoung knows nothing else but Mark's dark eyes, the taste of his skin and the salty tang of sweat, and the consuming heat that burns at every touch. But the touch of desperation leaks into every glance, every breath, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. 

When they are sweaty and spent, curled into each other under the blankets, tangled impossibly together, Jinyoung starts to doze. Only when he is in the haze between contently satisfied and sleep, Mark places the softest kiss on the bare skin of his shoulder, still warm from their activities. In a voice so quiet, Jinyoung almost misses what he says entirely, Mark says- 

"I love you." 

Jinyoung is careful not to tense a single muscle at the confession but he is suddenly alert, heart racing in his chest as he forces deep breathe. The shadows of their hotel room leer at him from every corner and he gets lost in the dark spin of his inner thoughts. 

**2:23am**

Mark lays on his side, watching the streaks of light that paint the floor, leaking into their dark room by where the curtains don’t quite meet up perfectly. A smile touches his lips, hard and bitter. 

There is the sound of a zipper slowly and quietly being drawn up echoes behind him. Jinyoung’s jacket, he thinks idly, but overall feeling disconnected from the noise and what it implies. 

Silence stretches and then the bed dips. Mark lies perfectly still, slipping his eyes closed to play along with their familiar routine. He can hear Jinyoung breathing softly behind him and it aches from every inch of his body to turn around, to confront him, to unleash his anger on what is so unfair. 

But he can’t do that. Can’t make someone face something they aren’t ready to see. 

And so he let’s Jinyoung ghost a kiss on his shoulder before quietly scooting off of the bed. Squeezing his eyes closed, his ears strain for the soft click of the door closing before he rolls onto his back and stares numbly at the dark ceiling. Ignoring the gaping hole of loneliness in his chest. He doesn't move until the sun rises but only buries his head under the pillows to hide away from the light. 

And if lets out a pathetic sob, no one is around to hear it. 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for K-Pop Olymfics 2017. Olymfics is a challenge in which participants write fics based on prompt sets and compete against other teams of writers, organized by genre.
> 
> I'm having problems getting the survey link to work, but as you all know, competition winners are chosen by the reads, so please let me know if the following link doesn't work! [ This survey! ](https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSfOsu5EaRJNO15TN0eZpcjJ2YfThXKaHd-y7HDQI0ytByBo7g/viewform)


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